


Wait For It

by amadnesskinks



Series: Hey Mr. Argent [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Begging, Dubious Consent, Dubious Ethics, F/M, Phone Calls & Telephones, Pictures, Relationship Discussions, Sexting, Spanking, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 09:39:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2503178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amadnesskinks/pseuds/amadnesskinks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The day after Lydia shows up at his house, Chris Argent has to figure out what happens next.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wait For It

**Author's Note:**

> I don't have super hardcore content warnings for this one, but do be warned that this story builds off the first part of the series. This means an adult, middle-aged man is knowingly entering into a relationship with an underage teenage girl. The relationship is also being built off an unsafe BDSM scene and Lydia's (mostly implied) desire to be fucked by an older man. Therefore there are still consent issues, and it's implied that there might be further under-negotiated scenes and/or sex.
> 
> This fic also features a teacher deliberately planning a potentially sexual and definitely inappropriate relationship with a current student while they are both at high school during a school day, and asking the student to send him pictures that could be considered sexual from a school bathroom.
> 
> Keep yourselves safe! If any of this bothers you, give this a pass. It's cool, I don't mind.

Chris still can’t quite believe what he did last night. Perfect rich-girl Lydia Martin showing up at his door specifically to see him was surprise enough, but the _rest_ of the night had been like something out of a fever dream. He’d be inclined to believe it hadn’t actually happened, if it weren’t for the ache in his shoulder.

He closes his eyes at his desk and lets himself remember the feel of his palm against her overheated skin, the way she’d squirmed in his lap, glaring and snapping until she finally melted against him and gave in. She’d been amazing, her back arching, her skin perfect under his fingers, the way she’d cried when he’d pulled out the hairbrush; it had all been hypnotic and perfect. He’s under no illusions about whether or not she’ll return, though.

In the heat of the moment, sure, he had been more than persuaded she’d come back to him, beg him even, but he’s smart enough and experienced enough to know that spoiled princesses like Lydia Martin don’t come crawling back to their friend’s father, particularly not when he’s made no bones about the fact that he’s not going to treat her like a precious, fragile statue.

He’s naturally a little shocked when he gets a text from an unknown number that says, _thinking about u, Mr. Argent_.

He hesitates for a moment, then texts back, _Lydia?_

_y. ru thinking about me?_

Chris can’t help his smirk. _I think you already know the answer to that, babydoll_ , he answers.

_I know Im hard not 2 think about_ , she replies, and Chris cringes a little at the text shorthand.

_Did you need something, sweetheart?_ He asks, when there’s nothing forthcoming after her last text.

She doesn’t text back immediately, and Chris checks the clock. It’s about five minutes into the period, and Chris knows the school policy on texting while in class. He helped write it, for god’s sake. He waits patiently, preferring not to get her in trouble. He’d also prefer not to get in trouble himself. She is one of his students, after all. And he has a class to teach next period, although the kids are working on research projects at the moment. Eventually, though, she does text him back, just before the bell is due to ring.

_n really,_ the text reads. _Just wanted 2 tlk 2 u. That OK?_

_Sure, babydoll_ , he answers. _But texting has rules_.

_U have rules 4 evrything._

Chris laughs a little at that. She’s not wrong. He does like order, structure, and guidelines in his day-to-day life, and while his rules for Allison are simple and straightforward and most infractions only result in a day or two of revoked phone privileges, what he’d like to do with Lydia would be much more stringent. He sends back _If you don’t want to follow them, you can always stop contacting me_.

_but I don’t want 2,_ she replies. _I like contact w u_.

_You are asking for it, babydoll_ , he warns. _Ask for my rules or stop texting me._

_Class starting_ , she sends back. _Plz send rules. Will read after._

Chris checks the clock. It’s only mid-morning, and since Lydia and Allison share similar class schedules, he knows she won’t have lunch for another hour and a half. _Call me at lunch. Go to one of the empty bathrooms and call._

His classroom’s been slowly filling up as he’s been texting, and the thrill of texting one of his students while he’s actually trying to teach carries him through the next hour easily. When the lunch bell finally rings, he ducks inside his office and makes sure none of the kids need him for anything, then gets out his phone and waits.

She calls him two minutes after lunch has officially started, and he answers immediately, barely letting it ring once. “Baby doll,” he says.

“Mr. Argent,” she replies. She sounds a little breathless.

“You alone?” he asks.

“Yes,” she answers. “I can hear people going by in the hall, but no one uses this bathroom during the lunch hour.”

“Good girl,” he praises. “Now then, you want to know my rules for texting me.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Argent,” Lydia agrees.

“These are rules even Allison has to follow, Lydia. So there will be no exceptions, and no extenuating circumstances. You obey them regardless of whatever else we might be doing. Understood?”

“Yes, Mr. Argent,” she says.

“Good girl,” he praises again. “First rule, always use proper grammar. Second rule, use complete sentences. Third rule, I don’t answer bad girls who text me using shorthand, but I do punish them. Do you want to know why I have these rules?”

“Yes, Mr. Argent,” Lydia answers.

“I have them so that you have to think about what you say to me in a text. I have them so I know you’re paying attention. And I have them so if there’s an emergency, my girls have to focus and calm down enough to text properly, or they have to call me. Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” she says.

“Does that make sense to you?”

“Yes, sir. You want me to pay attention to what I’m saying, and you want me to think about how and what I’m texting you. And you want me to be able to tell you articulately what’s wrong if any emergencies arise.”

“Very good,” he says. “Now, since you didn’t know the rules this morning, we’ll let those texts go with just a warning, but the next time there will be consequences.”

“Of course, Mr. Argent,” Lydia acknowledges. “Thank you, sir.”

“Now, tell me. How does that pert, perfect ass feel today?” he asks.

Lydia makes a soft, hurt noise. “Oh, Mr. Argent, it’s—oh fuck, it hurts to sit and it hurts to walk and—and I’m sorry I said the f-word,” she blurts. “I’m sorry, it’s just so sore, I’ve never—I’ve never felt like that before.”

“Mm,” Chris hums, deciding to ignore the bad language for the time being. “You still by yourself?”

“Yes, Mr. Argent,” she says.

“Take a picture of your bruises to send me, sweetheart. Lean against the stall door and take the picture in the mirror.”

“Okay, just—just a minute,” she says. There’s a moment of fumbling, a soft whimper, and then a few moments of quiet before she comes back on the line. “Finished. You should get them in a second or two.”

Chris hears the text alert in his ear and checks the message. It’s three pictures of Lydia looking over her shoulder, her skirt flipped up behind her. In the first one, her underwear are still pulled up and Chris can’t see her ass at all. In the second, she’s using the hand not holding the camera to pull one side of her panties down. The flash of purple and red makes Chris catch his breath. In the third, her panties are pulled down just enough to expose her ass, and she’s biting her lip, her free hand clenched in a fist and braced against the stall door. The bruising is bright, but from what Chris can tell not dangerous. She’ll be sore and tender for a few more days before the bruises start fading fully.

“That’s very good, baby doll,” Chris purrs. “Da—I appreciate it.” Chris blinks. He’d almost called himself _daddy_. He considers his slip for a long moment then decides he’ll bring it up with her later, if she agrees to the arrangement he proposed.

“You’re welcome Mr. Argent,” she breathes, and he takes a moment to reflect that, yes, he really would prefer she called him daddy. “Mr. Argent?”

“What is it, Lydia?” he asks.

“I—I just wanted to know, do I really have to wait until the bruises are gone?”

“Well,” he starts, but she keeps going before he can object.

“It’s just that, I bruise for a really long time and I—I don’t want to wait for a whole week or longer before I can come see you again. I know the next time Allison’s going to be out of the house, too, I could come over then, and you could do whatever you liked with me. No one would be there to hear, and I’d let you do anything, I swear,” she begs.

“Baby doll,” he says, “I love how eager you are for me, but it’s barely been twelve hours. I shouldn’t even be talking to you again, definitely not during school.”

“You aren’t going to make me wait every time you spank me, are you?” she pleads. “Oh please, Mr. Argent, I couldn’t take it if you made me wait that long every time. I—I’ll do it this once, since you want me to be sure, but I am sure. I’ve never felt like I did last night, and—just please, promise you won’t make me wait every time.”

Chris considers for a long moment. “Well, what about a compromise?” he suggests. “Allison’s going to Erica’s on Wednesday to study for a test. You come over then, and we’ll talk about just what I’ll be asking of you, and whether you can handle what I’ll demand, and we’ll see how it goes. That still has you waiting another two days before making any decisions, so I’ll know you’ve had time to think; and it lets you get your way, too, since your bruises probably won’t be healed by that time. Sound all right?”

“Yes, sir,” Lydia agrees quickly. “Thank you, sir.”

The bell rings before Chris can say anything else, and he clears his throat. “Was there anything else you needed, Lydia, or did you just want to beg for a while?”

“No, Mr. Argent,” she says. “I don’t need anything else, Mr. Argent.”

“Then go be a good girl for the rest of the day,” Chris orders. “I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

“Good bye, Mr. Argent,” Lydia breathes. “See you Wednesday.”

She hangs up, and Chris grins at his phone for a moment, then puts it away and pulls out his lesson plans. He can hardly wait for Wednesday.


End file.
